Avenging Murder
by Love Alchemist
Summary: Every story has a beginning and an end. And the story of YuGiOh! begins in Egypt, with a tragedy and a crime... Will it be avenged? Complete.
1. Blood and Sand

Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to Yu-Gi-Oh, only this idea and having fun while writing it. No harm meant.

Spoilers: Not really, but one could also say for the whole series. This is AU kind of, and yet not.

Warnings: Blood and tragedy

A/N: New ficcage inspired by buying the first volume of the AE arc that Viz just gave out. Hope you'll like it.

* * *

_Blood and Sand  
_

The sun was burning hot, heat-shimmers in the air making the desert that spread out around the little village on three sides look like something out of a dream... or a nightmare. This was the second year in a row that the yearly flood of the Nile hadn't happened, and three years before that the flooding had been negligible.

The people of Kemet were on the brink of destruction from nature's refusal to give what it usually did. A brown, callused hand was raised to shield against the harsh rays, pale blue eyes staring up at the hard blue sky and then back to the desert. They may not live very close to the Nile, but they depended on its flooding too, since there was a small river up in the mountains they relied on to flood and give them water. As with the Nile, this hadn't happened for two years in a row. Bakura scowled up at the bright, white-yellow disk in the sky and wrapped the protective cloth he'd taken off earlier around his head, long white strands falling softly, but strangely jagged, down to his shoulders.

"Damn..." The teen muttered and turned around to go back to the village, jerking on his white fringe in aggravation. He was lucky the villagers hadn't blamed him. They all were wary around him, due to his pale hair and eyes, but over time and as nothing evil happened, they came to accept his strange coloring. At least he was dark skinned like everyone else.

Then the ground shook under his feet, and Bakura briefly wondered if it was the end of the world... no flooding, the earth trembled... but when he whirled around, he could see the shapes of approaching horses.

"Father! Father! Horses coming this way!" Running back to the village, Bakura almost stumbled as he ran, and the man who rushed out of one of the small houses caught him just as he was about to fall.

"Whoa there, Bakura, calm down. Who's coming?"

Shaking his head, hair and cloth flying, Bakura shrugged.

"I don't know, but they're coming in awfully fast..."

The thunder of the horses' hooves was easily heard now, and they weren't slowing down. As the riders entered the village, it was clear they were the pharaoh's men. But what were they doing here...?

"Kill them! By the order of our _nisu_, kill those who would harbor a cursed man!" The captain shouted, and the soldiers spread out, spears and scimitars flashing in the sunlight, throwing pretty reflections over the golden sand... sand that was now spattered with blood. Bakura stumbled back, blue eyes confused... what?

"In the house, Bakura!" His father pushed him inside roughly, but he wasn't going to stay here! He was grown-up, easily old enough to help! He ran out again, shouting for his mother to stay inside as he dashed out and met a nightmare worse than the imagined fears crawling in the darkness of the night, because this was real... worse than the absence of flooding, because they could have survived those... worse than anything he could have fathomed.

Screams rendered the air, tearing at it with glass shards. Blood coated the ground, ran over the sand and dried, coloring it a stark ruby.

Bodies fell, men, women children...

"Father!" Only his mother's hand on his shoulder, gripping more forcefully than he could ever have believed she was capable of, hindered him from running to his father's side.

His father, who was cut down while trying to protect one of the children.

"Mother?" He turned around, as her grasp had softened, and blood spattered all over his face and front as the woman fell onto the ground, her lifeless corpse making a muted thud of flesh striking the sand. The blood ran down Bakura's face as he stared, wide eyed, at his mother's headless corpse.

His mother... father... his _family_, his whole _village_, murdered!

WHY?

The scream wasn't that of a child, but a young man, broken, a wounded animal howling his pain to the skies. Tears, scalding hot, ran down his cheeks, splattered to the ground and mixed with the blood there before being absorbed by the sand. The pharaoh. Their pharaoh, the man put on the throne by the gods, the man who was supposed to protect them... had ordered his whole family, his village, his _life_ butchered! The scream warped from grief and shock, into angered grief, smoldering hate.

WHY!

* * *

The crowd of people that stood along the street roared angrily, shouting accusations, curses, demands at the young man stumbling along after the horse he was bound to. A fruit, half rotten, suddenly sailed through the air, hitting Bakura's side with a disgusting 'splat'. This seemed to be the signal for others to throw rotten vegetables at him, and Bakura flinched and then whipped his head to bare his teeth, growling. 

They wouldn't see him crying! He'd cried by his mother's corpse, no more! The soldiers, the same who'd murdered his whole village, quickly put a stop to the throwing, if only because the crowd was becoming more unruly and they didn't want to be hit themselves, or have to deal with a riot.

They finally arrived at a large square which led up to the long boulevard to the palace, and at the beginning of that boulevard, surrounded by guards and priests, stood the pharaoh. A crude execution site had quickly been brought up in the square, and Bakura snarled. What had he done to warrant an execution?

What was going on!

The soldiers came to a stop some feet away from the pharaoh; the captain jumped down from his horse and dragged Bakura up to the pharaoh, forcing him down on his knees before the man. The pharaoh was not a tall man, but he managed to be imposing anyway, his presence commanding and red eyes cold and calculating.

The roar of the crowds collected on the square slowly died away, and finally the pharaoh stepped forward, holding up his hands for silence.

"My people! Here we have the one who has caused the recent troubles in our land! Here we have the man who has been cursed by the gods! We cleansed the village he has been hiding in, since the people there didn't do their duty to the gods or the land by not killing him at his birth. We will now bring this fault to right!" Pharaoh Atemu called out and the crowds roared in satisfaction. Bakura jerked in shock, getting a hard cuff on the head.

What the..!

The pharaoh stepped up so he was standing in front of Bakura.

"Make him look at me."

Apparently, he wasn't allowed to look up by his own power, because the captain grabbed his chin roughly and jerked his head up so his own blue eyes met the red ones of the pharaoh.

"Majesty! I haven't do-" Another hit to the back of his head silenced him.

"Do not speak to the _nisu_ without being asked to!" The man keeping him down on his knees barked. Atemu tut-tutted gently.

"You and I both know you haven't done anything..." The whisper crawled down Bakura's spine, and he shivered. "But the people need someone to blame, someone to work their anger out on. I won't allow this land to fall into riots and panic. I do what I have to, to keep my land together." Bakura's blue eyes widened as he stared into the red ones of the pharaoh incredulously. He couldn't... he wasn't... Pharaoh Atemu smiled slightly and tugged on a few spiky white strands. "Besides, anyone with hair like this can't be _normal_, now can he?"

The pharaoh stepped back; his whispers had reached no other ears than Bakura's own. The cold, pure _calculating_ tone in them had turned the young man's veins to ice, even in the sweltering heat of the day.

How...

Bakura gritted his teeth and snarled as he was jerked to his feet again and dragged to where his executioner stood. Anger boiled, warming his blood. How could this have been allowed to happen! Wasn't the pharaoh supposed to uphold _ma'at_, and not break it? And if he did, wasn't he subject to punishment like everyone else?

It seemed not.

Well, if the gods would not punish their representative on the earth, if justice didn't exist, Bakura would have at least _one_ thing, whatever he had to do to get it; vengeance. Vengeance for it all, for his family, his village, his _life_. If the gods would not bring justice to the pharaoh, Bakura would.

Deep in his soul, his burning determination, soaked in the blood of not only his mother, but his village, awakened something dormant, brought power enough to stir the deep magic everyone has slumbering in their soul, and formed it.

He was forced down on his knees again, head pushed down onto the stone slab and the captain stepped back, letting the executioner have free reign. As the executioner raised his scimitar, the white haired young man suddenly jerked his head up, blue eyes burning with a fire beyond hatred, beyond rage.

"Curse you, _nisu_! Curse you a thousand times over! If _ma'at_ existed, you would have been punished for your crimes! But if _ma'at_ will not give you what you rightly deserve, _I_ will!"

The silence was absolute, no one even dared to move, or breathe it seemed like. The pharaoh's red eyes were narrowed with anger, but his face was paler than it should be.

"Vengeance on your soul pharaoh! I will kill you; have my vengeance on you, even if it takes me more than one life. I will deprive you of _everything_! CURSE you!" The young man spat at the ground in the pharaoh's direction, the blood and saliva mixture falling with a soft and seemingly impossibly loud splat on the ground. The pharaoh suddenly got his color back, even flushed darker.

"Execute him! Now!" Atemu roared, shaken by the dark promise in those words, but still feeling secure. The gods wouldn't punish _him_. The scimitar was raised again, but both the pharaoh and the priest collected around him noticed the strange dark tendrils of what seemed to be pure shadow pooling around the young man.

The scimitar fell, whistling, and the dark tendrils exploded, grew taller, longer, _larger_. Formed something that surely must have been a monster. A white snake curled around Bakura, its head hissing in warning, the human-like body mounted on the end of the snake had a hand raised, stopping the scimitar from descending any lower.

Bakura was confused and shocked, but none of it showed on his face. Whatever this thing was, it was his, had given him a chance at his vengeance. Whatever it was, he knew the key to his vengeance lay in this creature. They just needed to get away... something shifted and Bakura smirked.

"I will kill you _nisu_, and your soul will feel my vengeance!" Bakura roared, then started laughing, a laugh that sent a chill down the spine of all assembled. Then both Bakura and the monster faded away, and a moment later it was as if he hadn't been there at all, except for the already dry spot on the ground colored red by the bloody saliva. Whatever had happened was important and...

* * *

Ryou woke with a start, breathing harshly, and wide eyes looking wildly around. What... That wasn't what Yuugi-kun had described! But his other and Atemu had looked different from what his friend had told them they looked like back in ancient Egypt. His other had been younger... less muscle... longer hair and clearly blue eyes instead of silver... and the pharaoh... Atemu... he'd been as short as before... but older, his vibrant hair hidden under a crown instead of free... and his eyes... 

Ryou shivered at the remembered cold calculation in what he could remember were usually compassionate, if determined, red eyes. What in the world had that been? Ryou knew he wouldn't be able to sleep after this, and got out of his bed, and sat down by his desk instead, deciding to write everything down so he wouldn't forget it.

Whatever it had been, he was sure it was important... hopefully not life-threatening though. He'd had _quite_ enough of that... except that for all that had happened, for all that he wasn't _aware_ for, since his other never let him remember anything, he still hadn't been with Yuugi-kun and the others when they got to know about the Millennium Items, and the other Yuugi... Atemu's memories.

He knew he should probably tell Yuugi, at least, about this, but... he didn't _want_ to. This would be for him alone, whatever it was. Tapping his pen against the note-book while resting his chin in a hand, Ryou stared at the picture frame on the wall in front of him. Keeping it a secret wouldn't hurt anyone, and if it became dangerous, he'd immediately call Yuugi. Not, that he could figure out what good that would do, since Yuugi didn't have the Puzzle anymore. Just as he didn't have the Ring. Reflexively, Ryou's other hand strayed to his chest, but there was nothing there, like usual, and blue eyes closed against the empty feeling clawing in his stomach.

Shaking his head jerkily, Ryou turned back to his strange dream. Egypt. But it sure hadn't looked like what the others had described... Thinking back on the dream, which was still as clear as crystal, as if he himself had been there, Ryou realized something. _/I could find that village! I could find it easily/ _And he saw no reason _not_ to go looking for it, because who knew what he could find there.

Of course, it could also be as empty as the bottom of the cookie jar hidden behind the sugar... he just couldn't help but eat them all up... Okay, that wasn't what he'd been thinking about. Going to Egypt... He had enough money for it, but he didn't really feel like calling his father.

Ryou yawned, but decided to take care of this before he got back to bed. Maybe then he would be able to sleep. The kitchen was dark of course, but a flip of the switch and light flooded the room. Ryou winced and closed his eyes, then slowly opened them, relaxing when they didn't stab spears into his eyes and brain. For having called this particular number very few times, his fingers flew over the keys, as if strangely familiar with them in this order.

"Malik-kun? It's Ryou. I'm sorry to disturb..."

_"Not at all, Bakura, what do you want?"_

For some reason, that simple question made Ryou unsure about all this. Who says it wasn't just some strange dream... but no. That had been... _felt_ too real to only have been a particularly vivid and strange dream.

"Oh, you see... I'm coming over to Egypt for in few days... could you meet me?"

_"Sure. But what are you doing here? Gonna meet your dad?"_ Malik sounded confused, and Ryou knew he had a chance for an easy way out. He could lie and say he _was_ going to meet with his father. But lying didn't sit well with him.

"No, that's not it. I had this... dream. And I want to check if something's the same as in my dream." Ryou explained it all in a rush, knowing he sounded strange... crazy even.

_"Ryou... a dream is a dream... It's not __real you know."_

"No! No, Malik. It wasn't a _normal_ dream. I... I'll explain it to you when I meet you, okay? Or I could not explain it at all, and you can just forget I asked and just meet me."

_"Forget it? As if I could! You're acting strange Ryou, and I want to know why. Call me when you know you're coming."_ With typical Malik abruptness, which could have been interpreted as rude, Malik hung up.

Ryou just smiled, relieved that Malik was going to listen. And hopefully not think he was a lunatic when he'd told him of the dream and that he wanted to try to find the ruins of the village from said dream. Not crazy? Ryou was beginning to doubt that himself, but right now he was tired, and he had a plane to book tomorrow, so hopefully all strange dreams would wait until later.

* * *

_Nisu_- proper ancient Egyptian word for king.  
_Ma'at_- law, the order of the world 

Whee. So. I could of course explain what's going on here, but I won't. Either you have figured it out, or you'll get to figure it out with Ryou and Malik. And you probably noticed that I used pharaoh when writing, but the word _nisu_ in spoken words. That was mostly because we are all used to the word pharaoh, but the ancient Egyptians themselves wouldn't have used it.  
And for those of you that have read Bakura x3 and that's reading this, I'm sorry, but right now nothing's coming. I'm trying, but I don't even know where I'm going with the fic any longer (it has changed two times already), so while I dearly love it it's simply not getting anywhere right now. Sorry.


	2. Ruin

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! _  
_

_/thoughts/_

_-Remembered sentences from the dream-_

* * *

_Ruin_

_-If the gods won't punish you, I will!-_ The echo trailed away as turbulence woke Ryou from his short nap on the plane to Egypt. He hadn't really been able to have one decent night's sleep since the dream three days ago. He never got any more than what he'd already dreamt, even if he _knew_ there must be more. Only snippets, sentences, blood splattering over his face, the sun burning hot and making the edges shimmering and soft at the execution square... Bits and pieces of the same dream, over and over, and it was driving him batty.

Ryou groaned as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, really hoping he'd be able to find the village and... whatever was there. _/If there is anything there./_ The shiver down his spine made him hug himself and clouded blue eyes turned to stare sightlessly out the little window, clouds chasing each other with sunlight gilding the edges.

He wasn't sure why he doubted there'd be anything there, but if this somehow was a suddenly awoken leftover from his other, with no way of making it stop, the rest of however long this would continue didn't look too bright. Or restful. Snorting and mentally chiding himself for being such a pessimist, Ryou grinned as the captain announced they would be starting the landing sequence, and that all passengers should please put on their seatbelts.

Finally!

And even if he was here because of a strange dream, he was happy. He liked Egypt and its bright sunlight and endless dunes of sand, the Nile glittering as if studded with diamonds... Shaking his head, Ryou smiled at the memory of visiting Egypt when he was little with mother and father... Amane-chan hadn't been born yet. That he even remembered anything from that trip was rather amazing, but the inner image of the Nile in the sunlight and the intense blue sky was as clear as if he'd just turned away from the sight and not as if it really was a memory from several years back.

The airport was hot and bustling, people hurrying everywhere and for a moment he was over-whelmed. Not by the heat or the people, but the strange image superimposing itself over his vision, that of a market square in ancient Egypt. Shaking his head, white strands flying, Ryou narrowed his eyes. He was getting tired of this.

"Oi, Ryou! Over here!" Malik didn't wait for the Japanese boy to actually turn around and walk up to him, but dodged between wagons piled with luggage, business men carrying suitcases, and families with howling children to come up beside Ryou.

"Isis and Rishid are waiting outside with the car. That's all you got?" Malik indicated the duffel bag and backpack Ryou was carrying with an elegantly raised eyebrow.

"Hi, Malik-kun. And yes, this is all I got with me. Sure, I'm not too sure how long I'm going to stay, but if I need more I'll just wash them or buy extras." Ryou shrugged laconically and grinned shyly. Throwing a sharp glance at his friend before moving closer to the entrance, Malik shrugged.

"Okay. And, Isis got curious as to why you were coming... and since she doesn't like it when I lie..." they both knew Isis and Rishid was keeping a close eye on Malik, but as of yet, there had been no stirring of the darkness within Malik. A darkness that couldn't really be separated from him by the shadow realm, and thus would always lurk within. "I told her what you told me, sorry. So you're gonna have to tell us all."

Ryou shifted his grip on the duffel bag and frowned briefly, biting his lower lip. Well, not much to do about it, and he could hardly blame Malik for telling his sister. Had he lied or tried to worm out of it, Isis and Rishid would have become worried and suspicious over nothing. Besides, maybe Isis could help. She had after all been the wearer of the Millennium Tauk.

"That's ok, Malik-kun. Wouldn't want your sister or Rishid to worry... or become unnecessarily suspicious." Blue and lavender glanced at each other and then they started to laugh at the shared image of Isis sneaking around trying it find out what was up. Of course, Isis wasn't the kind of woman to sneak around; she would just walk up to them and ask what it was. But the thought was funny nonetheless. But at the same time, Ryou decided he wouldn't tell the two older Egyptians what _exactly_ he was here for. He didn't want them with him when he went to look for the village for some reason. Malik, that was alright, but no one else.

The sunlight was bright, and momentarily blinded them as they exited the airport. They took a few moments to blink away the whiteness and black spots covering their vision.

"Isis-san! Rishid-san. Nice to meet you again." Ryou bowed quickly to Malik's sister and heart-brother, smiling softly.

"Ryou." Isis smiled, her dark-blue eyes glinting mischievously. "Malik tells me you've had some strange dreams and needed to come here to sort it out."

The all piled into the car, Rishid driving, and Ryou nodded as the car took them back towards Cairo.

"Yes. I can explain now, and I think just being here will help. At least I hope so..." Trailing off, Ryou smiled, slightly wearily, as Isis turned around, her face now serious.

"Well, let's hear it then, and when we get back, you go rest before we talk further about it. If you wouldn't prefer to wait with the explanation and rest first?" The concern in Isis voice was warming, since seldom did grown-ups take notice to him, or worry for his well-being.

"No, that's okay, Isis-san. I'll be alright, and I do want to tell it right away... If just to clear my head a little." Ryou leaned forward in his seat, aware of Malik doing to same and grateful for the familiar warmth, but focusing on Isis dark, gentle eyes as he retold his dream, the images playing up in his brain as he painted the picture with words. Words full of pain, blood and building darkness, all stemming from a crime coldly calculated and executed without a care for the people sacrificed.

* * *

_-Curse you, nisu! Curse you a thousand times over!-_

"Umm, sorry Malik-kun, what did you say? I think I spaced out for a moment there..." Ryou smiled apologetically, having been thinking on this night's most recent dream-snippet. He never remembered the many others, but he knew there had been more than one.

"I noticed," Malik's dry voice sent him back from his thoughts once again, "I asked you why you wanted me to show you around, that's not what you came here for, was it?"

"So, now I'm not allowed to play tourist just because I came here because of a disturbing dream?" Ryou mimicked Malik's dry tone from earlier, letting his amusement coat it.

"But, seriously? Because you're not going to show me around... we're going to go look for what I came here to find. Can your bike handle sand?"

Malik looked strangely at Ryou briefly, before smirking proudly.

"Yeah, she can. This baby can take most anything." Malik's brown hand patted his bike's seat, and Ryou grinned.

"Let's go then... I won't be able to give you all the directions right now, because while I'm sure I can _find_ the place, I'm not exactly sure of the directions and landmarks... we're just going to have to go... that way, first." Ryou made a vague gesture, and Malik grimaced, and then grinned evilly.

"Isis is gonna flip if she finds out. Let's go!" Cackling, Malik sat down and gave Ryou the spare helmet he'd bought a while ago then put on his own. So Ryou hadn't told his sister the whole truth, eh? Now Malik was interested.

* * *

Hours burned by in the desert, the sun a white-hot coal in the sky, Ryou occasionally leaning forward to scream new directions in Malik's ear, or gesturing which way he should go. Slowly, they neared the mountains, or large hills that had been lurking at the horizon, or at the corner of their eyes, and only because Ryou knew what he was looking for did they find the almost-buried ruins of a village that had witnessed a tragedy and crime, all within the same space of hours. 

The roar of the motorcycle silenced to a hum, like a purring cat, before dying away altogether as Malik turned the engine off and left them in glowing silence, the sand like molten gold beneath their feet and the ruins sticking out of the sand and looking like pieces of the mountains that rose up in front of them, silent and the color of bronze and dried blood.

_-Father! Father! Horses coming this way!_- The echo tingled down Ryou's spine from thousand of years in the past and he hugged himself, once again seeing the blood spattering over golden sand, bodies falling and screams piercing and shattering air that seemed to be made of glass.

"... Ryou? Oi, Ryou!"

Blinking, blue eyes focused back on the frowning lavender in front of him.

"I'm okay. You can stop shaking me now Malik-kun!" Ryou laughed and was relieved to find it wasn't the least strained. Malik scowled at him and released his shoulder.

"You better not do any more of that. It was as if you were seeing something else entirely than what we're looking a-ack!" Malik stumbled, swearing.

"Are you okay, Malik-kun?" Ryou ran up to him, but Malik waved him off, muttering about the idiocy of stumbling on nothing harder than sand. Ryou looked at the ground and crouched down.

"But you did stumble on something firmer than sand, Malik-kun." Ryou worked the fragment free and held it up for Malik to see. A broken-off piece of a thigh bone. Malik stared down at Ryou, his pale skinned and pinking face from the sunlight framed by soft, spiky white locks of hair, a khaki jacket protecting the rest of him from the sunlight, and then he raised his head to look around the ruins, slowly realizing exactly _where_ they were, even though it should be impossible.

"Ryou... this is the village, isn't it..? The village from your dream." The end of the sentence didn't end in a question. Ryou nodded.

"Yes. It is. That's why I'm here. To find whatever's here."

Malik wanted to scream that there _was_ nothing here, convince the somber-eyed boy that this was just a coincidence, that the dream hadn't been anything more than that, that him finding the village a few thousand years after the fact was just a fluke, that it... But he wouldn't. There was so obviously something more to this, to the fact that what had looked like slightly different versions of Bakura and Atemu had appeared in Ryou's dream. At least, Ryou believed there was something more to it, and now Malik was beginning to think so too.

"... Great. Just Ra-bedamned, fucking great." Malik muttered, fisting a hand in his own hair and jerking a little. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

Ryou shook his head slowly, letting his gaze wander around the ruins.

"No... Not really... wait. That one." Ryou's pale hand pointed to a ruin of a building that looked like any other to Malik. It stood close to what seemed to be the edge of the village, on the other end from where they'd wandered in.

"Well, let's check it out then." Malik took Ryou's already raised hand and helped him up, tossing away the piece of bone with a disgusted scowl.

The stairs they'd found in the ruins were hazardous to walk down, since sand covered everything, so they almost-slipped all the way down to what must have been a cellar of some sort. The room wasn't large, but larger than one would have thought. And whatever had been here first had been changed to hold what it did now.

Sand lay in droves near the stairs, covered the floor in a fine coat of sandy-dust and framed the crudely chiseled out dais. A dais that was almost spine-chillingly familiar, if only because it wasn't supposed to be here. Looking up reluctantly, both young men found what they certainly wouldn't have wanted to find; on the other side of the dais the wall was carved into an approximation of a large door, a very familiar one.

Malik and Ryou looked incredulously at each other. This looked like a much cruder and smaller version of the shrine beneath Kuru Eruna, and how was that _possible_? Ryou frowned as he walked up to the dais and then up on it, Malik silent and shocked at his back. While this was all a surprise, it wasn't _really_ that unexpected. Ryou remembered Bakura's surprise and dark glee when his ka suddenly appeared. Strangely enough, it had been smaller and looked slightly softer than the description he'd gotten from Yuugi… Everyone was clearly surprised and scared as it suddenly formed out of the shadows so he'd have to assume that had never happened before.

So, what did that mean?

Ryou wasn't sure yet, but on the other hand, he was relieved the dream had showed itself to be more than just a severe case of brain ghosts, and had been _real_. It had felt so real... Stopping at the opposite end of the dais, blue and lavender eyes widened at what they found themselves staring at.

The skeleton stretched over the stone made it hard to see, but it was almost certain. A tablet like the one beneath Kuru Eruna. Ryou stretched out a hand, hesitated, and then, with a grimace of horrified disgust at what he was about to do, dragged the skeleton off the tablet. The robe it had been wearing crumbled into dust and fibers as he moved it down into the stones of the floor. Rubbing his hands quickly on his pants to get rid of the _feeling_ of having touched a skeleton (at least it hadn't been a fresh corpse) in them, Ryou looked up at Malik's hiss, and since he was staring at the now-cleared tablet, Ryou looked there too.

This one was much less detailed than the one beneath Kuru Eruna had been, of course, and, strangely enough, there was only one "socket" in it, right in the middle of the chest. Ryou stepped up to it slowly, as if magnetically attracted. The gold gleamed dully in the light from the torch they had brought with them from the bike, the rope still attached to it spotted and stiff with something else, and Ryou's fingers twitched away from the cord, instinctively knowing it had to be blood, even if there wasn't any logical proof why it should be.

The gold was untarnished, gleaming as clearly as if the pendant had been made yesterday. It was a large circle, reminding Ryou of the Ring, but no pointed bangles hung from the circle, and the only thing within the golden ring was an Eye of Horus... or simply, the Eye, that which decorated every Millennium Item. Ryou inhaled softly, tracing the gold just above it, not really touching.

What was the connection between this strange, smaller replica of the shrine from Kuru Eruna and this single gold item, reminding them so much of the seven Millennium Items?

_-Curse you a thousand times over! ... Your soul will feel my vengeance!_- The roared words floated inside Ryou's brain suddenly, and Ryou wasn't really sure why. But...

"Ryou... as interesting as this is, don't you think we should call Isis?" Malik thankfully didn't mention Yuugi, but Ryou shook his head determinedly anyway.

"You can go up and wait there if you want to Malik. But this was _my_ dream... I know this is somehow connected to it."

The Egyptian snorted and shook his head, blond strands and the gold that decorated him gleaming in the torchlight.

"Hardly. Go on then."

Ryou knew what he meant, and finally grabbed the golden pendant by the Eye, reluctant to use the cord and lifted the ring-like item up from its slot. The cord crumbled into so much dust as the pendant was moved, so it hadn't matter if he'd used that or not. Ryou clearly felt the shudder in the air, and everything seemed to jerk.

The pendant suddenly glowed brightly, like the Puzzle used to do when switching between Yuugi and Atemu, and shadows twisted into shape before them. The man sitting on the tablet was partly see-through, but the colors were clear as if he was real. Rust-red robe, loin-cloth, dark skin, past the shoulders, white hair strangely jagged, and large blue eyes. The smirk was wide, and so, so familiar.

Malik choked and sputtered.

"Wh... who're..." He trailed off, obviously not wanting, or not being able to state the obvious, even with the differences.

"... Bakura...?" He couldn't help the question, even if he recognized this form from his dream. It was just... his fingers hurt from his white-knuckled grip on the pendant.

* * *

_Nisu_-king in ancient Egyptian 

-cackles- Hope you liked it.


	3. Exploring the Darkness

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

* * *

_Exploring the Darkness_

"... Bakura...?" Ryou's question hung in the air, his apparent hesitation making the familiar and yet not figure grin wider.

"Ryou, you can't be serious..." Malik hedged, glaring at what _almost_ looked like Bakura, even if this was clearly the Bakura from Ryou's dream. The ghost, shadow, memory, whatever threw his head back and laughed, that too familiar.

"What, don't recognize me? Maybe this will be more familiar to you?" Bakura smirked mockingly as he started to shimmer as if he was just a heat-induced hallucination of the desert. Then the half-solid form steadied again, this time wearing a red robe, his white jagged hair shorter, with narrow silver eyes and a scar over his right eye. Bakura cackled nastily at the boys' rather faint expressions, even if Ryou had _known_. Actually seeing it wasn't really the same as thinking, hoping it was real. It hardly answered any questions either. Hadn't what Yuugi and the rest seen during the Egypt TRPG been real at all? Had Atemu been tricked to believe an elaborate hoax being the truth and his memories?

"Or maybe _this_ will be more to your liking?" Bakura smirked as he shimmered again, becoming shorter and thinner whilst his hair grew longer, and finally ending up as the distorted version of Ryou that at least Malik was more familiar with. Ryou just shifted his weight uncertainly, since he hadn't really seen Bakura much. There had been the TRPG when he'd first met Yuugi and the rest... Bakura's voice, a darker, meaner version of his own, but beyond that? Not much at all. He wasn't sure what he was more comfortable with, someone he intellectually knew to be Bakura from either a description or his own dreams, or someone who looked like a slightly distorted version of himself (which was rather freaky). But at least this Bakura's voice was familiar, and in the end that was better than the other two "versions".

"Bakura... What's going on? Wasn't... the Egypt TRPG what happened?" He could have called the ghost... spirit, his "other" of course, and while he rather wanted to, the dream was still close to mind, and the name, since it was, after all, his name, seemed more right to say. Instead of answering directly, Bakura glanced at Malik and grinned, slightly nastily too.

"Hello Malik. Finally rid of your lesser side?"

"Not that that's any concern of yours, Bakura, but yes, everything is under control." Malik sneered, arms crossed over his chest. Ryou looked between the two, not certain whether he should snicker because of the wary, underlying "more-or-less-allies" feeling, or step between them so they didn't throttle each other.

The two stared at each other for a few more moments before Bakura abruptly turned back to face Ryou again, eyes narrowed.

"Don't loose that thing. It's important." Bakura snarled, indicating the pendant, and jumped off the tablet he was sitting on, starting to pace the dais. "I never thought... Maybe _finally_..." The spirit didn't seem to be in any mood for explaining anything, rather he just paced while looking pissed off and hissing unclear words. While waiting for Bakura... and wasn't that amazing, since he should have been gone with the Ring?... to decide he was ready to explain what was going on, Ryou turned the Eye pendant around in his hands, familiarizing himself with the heavy piece of gold.

"Ryou."

Taking the offered piece of cord Malik for some reason had had in one of his pockets; Ryou quickly tied it off and hung the pendant over his neck, letting it fall on his chest with a familiar and comfortable feeling. It wasn't the Ring, but somehow felt instantly right.

"So... why would you think Yuugi's retelling of what happened during the TRPG wasn't at least _partly_ the truth?" Bakura's drawl interrupted Ryou's thoughts and the teen looked up from staring at his feet, rather confused.

"You mean you don't know...? I had a dream... in which the pharaoh's men slaughter a village because they've harbored a "cursed" man, in which a young man named Bakura is made into the scapegoat for several years of the Nile failing to flood because his hair and eyes are different... But I don't understand, why do you look different from what Yuugi described?" Ryou's voice was gentle and patient, but sneaky in its own way, encouraging you to talk to him, to answer his questions. Bakura opened his mouth thoughtlessly, and then snapped it closed, giving Ryou a short glare that turned into a quick, narrow-eyed grin and nod, recognizing Ryou's little tactic, but warning him to not use it on him.

"Curious, are you?" Bakura sneered as he almost absently let his gaze wander around the crude little shrine. "All of this... I made it myself. Hardly remember most of it, years of work, but I did do it." His voice was soft, dangerous, forbidding any sort of interruption.

"You want to know what your dream was, where it fits into the noble story of pharaoh Atemu and his sacrifice to protect the world against the dark god Zorc Necrophadisu?" Bakura's voice dripped of angry mockery as he talked of the pharaoh, giving Ryou a piercing glare.

Ryou just straightened his back under that judging stare, and crossed his arms, raising his chin in determination.

"Yes, I want to. I don't think it would be very nice to let Yuugi and the others think what they know of the Millennium Items is the truth, if it really isn't." Ryou scowled, his voice sharp but Bakura just laughed mockingly, a familiar evil grin on his face.

"Oh, it's the truth. Your dream fits into the truth, just not in the way you think, my host. Are you gonna come with us, or just stand there like a little mouse, Malik-chan?"

Bakura cackled at Malik's vicious snarl as the Egyptian stomped up to stand on Ryou's other side, opposite of Bakura.

"Good, good. Let's go then!" Bakura said gleefully, smirking evilly at Malik and Ryou, and too late they wondered _where_ exactly they were going.

"Bakura, wait!" Ryou didn't have the chance to say anything else before Bakura had him take hold of Malik's arm, then grabbed the pendant hanging from his neck and a bright light flared, encompassing his whole vision and blinding him.

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly in a wave of heat and sunlight, sand rubbing his cheek where he lay on the desert floor. Disgustedly coughing out some sand, Ryou sat up, blinking in the bright light. To his right, Malik groaned and stood up slowly, scowling at their surroundings. 

"Both of you awake? No broken bones or thoughts?" Bakura was standing a bit away with his arms crossed, looking out over the desert towards a city in the distance. He seemed to be the only one of them unaffected by their travel, and the only thing missing, Ryou thought, would be that trench coat he'd found stuffed in the closet, and then later, finding himself wearing it, after the Egypt TRPG.

"Your concern _warms_ me, truly, Bakura." Malik snorted and looked around the desert, "and what are we doing here? And _where_ is here?"

Bakura smirked and turned around to face them, superior expression firmly in place as he gave a short bark of laughter.

"Yuugi and his other little cohorts would probably recognize this place somewhat, even if they had to go through a labyrinth to get there. This is my memories; carved into the gold of the item my host is wearing around his neck by blood. Welcome to my world." Bakura mocked with a sweeping gesture ending to point at a shimmer in the ground behind them.

Turning around, they were in time to see the slightly different form of Diabound melting out of the ground with the younger Bakura in his arms. The young man looked triumphant, with curiosity burning in his bright eyes. Ryou's breath hitched, and then was released.

"Bakura... This was the first time, wasn't it? The first time Diabound appeared? But why..."

"Don't sound so confused, little host," Bakura laughed, a slight sneer in his words. "I think you're beginning to get it, but since you appear to be slow, I'll give you a hint. Everything has a beginning, doesn't it? And somewhere, people must first have found out about ka, and somewhere the book Priest Akunadin found must have been written, yes?"

His two "guests" were silent, blue and lavender darting between the Bakura by the smaller Diabound, and the Bakura in front of them, who was smirking in a confident, sneering way at them.

"Do you mean..." Malik and Ryou looked at each other, finally starting to understand what was going on here, what these memories were. "Do you mean... this is _before_ the Items were made, before Atemu's father was on the throne?" Ryou said finally, hesitantly. It sounded amazing, but what else was there? Seto had clearly been in ancient Egypt, and also present in the "now", so reincarnation apparently did exist... but it was mind-boggling really to think that this was the beginning of _everything_ that they'd had to go through.

"Bingo! And now that we've had the boring lesson of the hows and whens, let's do what you came here to do." That said, Bakura raised an expectant eyebrow and both Malik and Ryou sighed, but did turn around. This _was_ what they had come for, or at least what Ryou absolutely had come to Egypt for, while Malik had curiously tagged along.

* * *

Bakura stared with a sense of awe up at the creature he knew was his. And not just _his_, but a reflection of him. He could _feel_ that that was what it was. A mirror, of sorts. He didn't know what it could do, of course, but he knew it could be of help against... against... black anger rose up, enveloping the screaming red-hot pain, nullifying it. 

Oh, he didn't know _how_ yet, but the pharaoh would _pay_... and there were whispers in the darkness, feather-soft against his thoughts, willing to tell him just _how_ to take his vengeance on the pharaoh if he would just listen. And Bakura, twisted and bleeding in his mind, finding new darkness and depths of himself that could relieve the pain and patch up the wounds, listened. And, oh, weren't the possibilities the voice whispered just wondrous? Of course, he'd need time to prepare it all, but he could be patient... a twisted smirk froze on his face for a moment, before he realized he couldn't stay here. The pharaoh would send out his guards, and he wasn't all that far away from the city, so he needed to vacate the premises, and quickly.

It wasn't easy to find somewhere to live, or work. He had been condemned by the pharaoh as a cursed man, and who would want a man like that in their homes? So Bakura went back to the hills, because there were caves there, and turned to the dead for money to get what he needed. And there was a certain... enjoyment, in robbing the pharaoh's ancestors of their gold and finery. They didn't need it anyhow, but he did. Surely they wouldn't object?

With a snicker, Bakura glanced at the sarcophagus, well, at any rate they _couldn't_ object. Most days usually disappeared in a haze of darkness and the scent of papyrus. The whispers had convinced him to write it all down since he surely wouldn't be the only one who'd want to use the darkness, and who was he to deny others such satisfaction? But he couldn't help but not be disturbed over the fact that he simply didn't seem to be aware much of what he was writing... and of course, since he couldn't read, he didn't understand what it stood, but somehow he had the information he needed in his brain, so he would be able to do what was needed to implement his vengeance.

But...

"Blood... there's so much _blood_ needed... But I don't want _seven_ items... just _one_ is enough..." The idea formed slowly in his mind, and he ignored the angry whispers. The book wasn't finished just yet, so he'd finish it, but he wouldn't do the whole ceremony. He didn't want, or need seven items. Just one, drenched in his own blood and determination, would be enough.

This was _his_ vengeance, and no others would spill the blood. This was _personal_.

Pebbles and gravel fell away under the chisel and hammer's strikes and Bakura paused for a moment to dry the sweat running down his face. The shrine was crude, mostly unfinished, but it was good enough. Glazed blue eyes looked around the cellar room in satisfaction. A satisfaction that did only partly belong to the young human man, and mostly to the being whispering the darkness in the man's ear. It was more or less finished, years of work and yet only this rather crude, and barely worthy, ceremonial place had been erected. But it would do, and even if this boy wouldn't do it all, there was the book, and the shrine, and sooner or later, as long as the book was preserved, someone would fall for the temptation for power. Especially since after the manifestation of Bakura's ka years before, ka had slowly become more and more usual and that would guarantee some greedy individual sooner or later would want _power_.

Not to say Bakura didn't want it too, but Zorc Necrophadisu could not penetrate the diamond and blood wall that surrounded Bakura's soul and will for personal, as he put it, vengeance. It did not matter how much he whispered and tempted with ultimate power of darkness... Bakura would not be swayed, even if his darker impulses rejoiced at the thought of such power. Another time then. And of that, Zorc Necrophadisu was certain.

* * *

Ryou followed everything happen with a growing sense of unease. Bakura had in a whisper, even if it wasn't necessary to do so, explained that it was the being he now knew as the dark god Zorc Necrophadisu who had told him what to write, and how to make the shrine. That would mean Bakura had been manipulated by Zorc from the very _beginning_, and that beginning wasn't just from when Akunadin had ordered Kuru Eruna slaughtered, but even _before_ that. 

The thought was sobering, and _hurt_.

Oh, Ryou knew his other wasn't some lily-white, innocent child, that he had qualities that made him into what he was, and he enjoyed being who he was, but that didn't take away from the fact that Bakura had been manipulated from the beginning, and that Atemu was partly responsible for the mess the Millennium Items were, partly responsible for the creation of the monster within Bakura. Nothing was very clear-cut anymore, but had it ever really been? Just because you were on the side of "good", did that mean those who had other standards, ideals, were wrong?

No...

You couldn't say that.

Ryou glanced away from the memory version of Bakura who was still working on the shrine like a possessed man, and, Ryou guessed, that was what he was, and up at Malik instead. Who was glaring at everything and nothing in particular, apparently having reaffirmed some lingering anger against the pharaoh. Ryou bit his lower lip and gently laid a hand on Malik's shoulder.

"Yuugi-kun isn't like that, Malik-kun. He'd never do that." He muttered, and lavender flittered to look briefly at him before turning back to the scene in front of them.

"I know."

Ryou smiled encouragingly and glanced at the Bakura on the other side of him, who was glaring with narrow-eyed anger at having to watch his memories again. But if he was to have some help, it required Ryou, and now that he was here, Malik, to know what had happened.

"Yuugi-kun isn't Atemu, Bakura-san... so I won't help you hurt _him_. But... Atemu... if you need help, I will." It felt wrong to say that, it was Yuugi's other they were talking about after all, but he _needed_ to help, anything else would be wrong. Bakura stared at him, narrow blue eyes glaring steadily and Ryou waited for the expected response, the exclamation of 'I don't need _your_ help', but it didn't come. Instead Bakura nodded sharply.

"... Maybe that will be what can call him back... someone to use the pendant."

Ryou breathed out and smiled softly. He could do that... hopefully. It wasn't as if he'd ever used even the Ring, not really.

"I'll do my best."

Bakura just scoffed at that, turning away from Ryou to continue to glare at the memories playing out in front of them.

* * *

Ah... you like it? Welcome to the bloody beginning of Yu-Gi-Oh! But it's not over just yet. 


	4. Shadows Rise, Circle End

Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, but this idea is all mine.

* * *

_Shadows Rise, Circle End_

Raising his hands to shield his face, Bakura looked up into the blue sky without a thought in mind. After a few minutes, or maybe hours, thought trickled back into the white-burned nothingness his brain had become for a moment and he grinned fiercely.

This was it.

Now he would finally create the instrument for his revenge.

From a simple sack made out of cloth that hung over one shoulder and down on his opposite hip, Bakura picked up a wrapped item, slowly unwinding the cloth to reveal gold to the sun's rays. Trailing a finger along the pendant and its Eye in the middle, Bakura gripped it decisively and whirled around, stalking down the stairs of the ruined house behind him and into the cellar-shrine below. Since his back was turned, he failed to notice the cloud of dust that rose on the horizon, but even if he'd had seen it, it could just have been taken for a forming sandstorm.

The book he'd been working on for so long lay on the floor beside the simple tablet, with its single depression to hold an item. Heavy, if somewhat beautiful, hieroglyphs covered the pages, surprising the young man each time he saw them. For someone who actually didn't _know_ how to write, it looked rather good. That wasn't what was on Bakura's mind right now though, only what was _written_. Of course, he still couldn't read, but the knowledge was burned into his brain, and had just needed a little 'help' as it were to be called up. Kneeling by the book and flipping the pages until he found the accurate section (more on a feeling of "this was it" than actually being able to read it), Bakura nodded to himself, face grim but eyes gleaming with an unholy sort of anticipatory glee at what this would result in.

The shrine was soon filled with soft incantations, Bakura's deep voice filling every crevice and teasing the shadows into life. As the knife stuck into the belt of his loincloth was withdrawn, the light from the torches sparingly spread out in the room flashed over the blade, and the corners seemed to turn darker, the shadows twisting and stretching outwards, towards the young man in the middle. Bakura's voice rose with the strengthening of the incantations.

The knife fell, surrounded by shadow and as if in slow motion, light reflected like water in the blade. Dark brown flesh parted and the required blood gushed forth, first dripping and then running down the length of his arm and fingers, falling the distance between Bakura's fingers and the tablet soundlessly, and visibly being sucked in by the Pendant. The Shadows were now taking up more than half the shrine, purple-black tentacles caressing Bakura's own shadow playfully, possessively. He was beginning to get lightheaded, but he only narrowed pale, blue eyes, face set in a determined scowl.

It wasn't enough, just... a... little... more...

The Shadows suddenly reared back, retreating into the corners and crevices, almost hissing against the stone, as steps echoed down the short stairwell and into the shrine. Bakura was too occupied by the ceremony to take heed, or even notice the heavy thumps as they filled up the shrine, forcing the Shadows back with their mere presence. Swaying on his feet, Bakura nodded to himself, grin triumphant. That would do it. The Pendant flared, bright like the sun hitting something reflective for an eternal moment, Bakura gripped the wound on his arm, rather surprised at the weakness of his grip, he must have lost more blood than he thought...

"Shoot him!" The voice stabbed right through the light-drenched darkness in the shrine and Bakura's mind, his red red-brown robe swirled around his feet like seaweed caught in an underwater current in the Nile, slow and excruciating. The arrows, three of them, thunked into his back like shards of freezing metal. He coughed wetly, swayed on his feet yet again, more from the force of the arrows hitting him than anything, and then collapsed to his knees. He felt his upper body slam into the tablet and slowly, too slowly, he couldn't be _that_ weak, he _would_ have his vengeance, Bakura raised one arm, scrabbling for the Pendant.

The robe was turning wet, sticking to his back due to the blood it was soaking up, and finally he found the cord, followed it down and touched gold, warm and slick. Fighting to keep his vision straight, it didn't want to obey, he tried to get a grip on the Pendant, but there was so much _blood_. Blood everywhere, but he _would not be thwarted_!

He would...

WOULD have his...

... his thoughts trailed away, like the last blood from his body, no matter how he tried to keep them all inside. He coughed again, blood spraying out of his mouth and then the blue eyes dimmed, unseeing. Shadows and light flared from the Pendant, surrounding the dead thief for a moment, and then they melted away.

* * *

The scene started to fade out in a shiver of gold and red, shimmering and twisting. Whirling around to face Bakura, Ryou shook his head, white strands flying dizzily in this swirling maelstrom of dissolving memories. 

"Wait! What happened after that? That's not it!" His cry was like a slash of violet among the colors, seemingly halting everything for a second.

"... I _died_, my memories end here." Bakura sneered, obviously not comfortable with admitting that he didn't know anything more. Malik shook his head.

"Isn't this enough? We know what happened now."

"No! That wasn't all. It doesn't explain how that Priest Akunadin got the book, or anything..." the colors started to swirl faster, and they could definitely see what looked like the age-worn edges of the cellar-shrine in-between the colors. It was the real shrine. Ryou narrowed his eyes, not looking angry or upset, only determined, as he grabbed the pendant lying on his chest.

"Wait! Show us what happened!" And the colors froze like paint that had dried, then faded into a picture again, showing the shrine... But not the real shrine in modern day, but still the one that had been before, the memory one. Bakura and Malik stared, startled, at Ryou, who was turning back to the scene. It wasn't as sharp as before, the edges were fuzzy, unfocused, but everything else was crisp and clear enough.

* * *

There were three guards surrounding the priests and the pharaoh, and more standing on the stairs, the shrine being too small for that many people. Atemu nodded, grim-faced as he stalked up to the thief to make sure he was dead. But three arrows to the back would down anyone, especially since the thief had apparently wounded himself and let his blood flow, for whatever reason. 

Atemu stared down at the sightlessly staring thief, arms crossed. Something had been going on in here, the darkness, figuratively of course, even if the shadows in the corners seemed a little strange and oppressive. Atemu whirled around, satisfied with that mess being over. He wanted to leave, to get out of here and leave this place.

It unsettled him.

Pausing for a moment, he cut off a lock of white hair, needing some proof pf the thief's death to his people, but he wasn't going to burden any of his guards with the infuriating and disgusting thief. He could damn well rot down here. A flash of gold caught his eyes when he turned around again, and Atemu kneeled down, picking up the book that had been half-hidden by the fallen thief's robe. His fingers tingled unpleasantly as he held the book, and he stalked off the dais, thrusting the book into the waiting hands of an aged priest with a goatee.

"Get rid of it. No. Destroy it! I want to be sure that whatever happened here can't happen again!" Atemu's voice carried the weight of someone used to being obeyed, and no one noticed the minute shake of his hands. He'd briefly seen what had been contained within the book, felt the light tug of temptation.

Power.

All the power he could wish, if he would _only_...

Atemu snarled at nothing, and stormed out of the shrine, relieved this was over and done with. Now his subjects would calm down again, and hopefully the gods would be satisfied with the sacrifice of the unclean one. Atemu shook his shoulders and raised his head to the sunlight outside, shaking off the happenings in the shrine below.

He had a country to run and his priests better hurry up!

Down in the shrine, the old priest that had been given the book waited patiently for the last of the guards and his fellow priests to leave. He ran one reverent hand over the cover of the book, his single intact eye (the other lost long ago) gleaming in anticipation. But he knew it would be foolish of him to use the book and its rituals so close to these happenings. He would do better to wait... hide the book, hope he could get the chance to use it... and if not this time, maybe another. He would give _no one_, other than himself, the chance for the power of darkness. For this man, the tingles weren't unpleasant, merely a promise. A tight smile lighted up his face briefly, and then he hid the book in his robe and left the shrine and its lone occupant that would forever be held here.

* * *

Stumbling in disorientation, Ryou and Malik looked around, unsure if they should feel relieved or something else at being back in the "now", in reality. 

"That was... quite a trip." Malik said in a subdued voice, his face blank. Ryou nodded, glancing unsure over at the spirit beside them, who looked ready to rip something up. Pale fingers danced along the Pendant, and Ryou wasn't sure how he was supposed to help Bakura get his revenge. His other was _dead_ after all, still only present in spirit form due to somehow, most probably, having left a piece of himself imprinted on the Pendant, and Atemu... And Atemu, Yuugi's other, had already left for the afterlife.

How do you help in a mess like this? Ryou wasn't aware that he was clutching the Pendant as if his life depended on it as he thought, but a bright flare of light, the gold going warm beneath his fingers distracted him from his thoughts. The light emanated from the Eye in the middle of the Pendant, and lanced out from it, hitting the "door" on the opposite side of the dais. There was no sound as the door slowly opened, a white-yellow light filling the doorway. Bakura whirled to face his host, livid anger brightly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! Now I won't have my chance!" Impotent rage in his voice and face, and Ryou was about to apologize, because he wanted to help, even with all the trouble and danger Bakura had posed for his friends when a soft whisper in his ear, like a feather caressed over the shell, made him pause. In the doorway, three shapes were briefly outlined... Ra, Osiris and Obelisk. Ryou nodded, acknowledging the gods. They would give Bakura his rightful chance for vengeance, but how he used it...

The light in the doorway pulsed, the shadow outline of the gods disappearing and another appearing, the shape of a man.

"Bakura? Malik? What is going on?" Atemu's deep, cultured voice rang in the dusty air of the shrine, bewildered. Then he caught sight of the spirit of the tomb robber he'd been fighting for so long. "BAKURA!" Snarling, Atemu's compassionate red eyes turned hard and angry. "What is going on?"

"You like repeating things, don't you, _nisu_? But, if this place isn't enough to remind you of _your_ place in our mutual vendetta, maybe this will jog your memory?" Bakura was smug and confident now that he hadn't had to leave the mortal plane, and apparently been granted his chance for vengeance. Smirking, Bakura ignored Atemu's jerk as he looked around the shrine, a faint and quick guilty look flittering over his face (not enough), and instead started to shimmer again, form twisting back into his original one, the one who vaguely looked like a meld between his host and the body he'd had when he'd worn the Ring.

"What! Malik, Bakura..." Atemu looked over at the two young men, both who shook their heads, Malik grim-faced, while Ryou looked faintly apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Atemu-san."

"What do you think you're _doing_, Bakura? It's the tomb robber's fault we had to go through so much trouble, how could you have let him back here!" Atemu was angry, but also concerned for Ryou. Had the tomb robber somehow lured the young man to let him back? But how could that have happened without the Ring..? Then he spotted the golden Pendant hanging around Ryou's neck, faintly realizing what it must be, what the ceremony that had been held in this place before his guards had killed the thief had been.

"It isn't my host who's the important thing here, _nisu_. It's between you and me. You, me and your _crimes_."

Atemu glared viciously at Bakura, and then turned back to Malik and Ryou.

"I'm doing what's right, Atemu-san. We saw... what happened." Ryou shrugged and Atemu grimaced. He could remember, but he still thought he was right. It was his _right_, as king and representative of the Gods. Bakura snarled as if he had caught on to what Atemu was thinking.

"Don't think you're the _victim_ here, _nisu_. _Your_ decision to make me a scapegoat had a hand in making me listen to the one we know as Zorc Necrophadisu. _Your_ decision to kill my family, my village, my _life_, had a part in making me look for vengeance. _You_ are partly responsible for allowing the dark god into the world and letting the Shadows taint the mortal plane. _You had a part in it_!" Bakura's voice was vicious, acid on snow and his blue eyes narrowed in anger.

He had first thought of a hundred, a million other ways to exact his vengeance. But no blood spilt would be as satisfying as crushing the pharaoh's spirit, making Atemu realize he was not the hero, that he was as tainted as the "villains".

That he wasn't innocent.

Hell, anyone could see that the _real_ innocence and righteousness had been passed on to Yuugi, and not his other. Atemu sputtered, and then glowered, banishing the quick flitter of horrified realization.

"That's not true, Bakura. Your words mean nothing."

Bakura just grinned smugly, keeping his laughter in.

"Don't make me _laugh_, nisu. You know I am right. You may not have seen it before, but now, with your precious _partner_ giving you a wider line of sight, you can see the real right and wrong. And you know what you did back then was wrong. You know it, and because of your actions, it made me look for revenge, it allowed Zorc Necrophadisu into the world. You had a hand in creating the monster!" Bakura sneered, satisfaction blooming as Atemu staggered as if physically hit.

"Think on that in the afterlife! Now it doesn't matter where I go, _nisu_. I've finally gotten my vengeance on your soul!"

"This isn't over Bakura! Just you wait!" Atemu shouted, angry beyond belief, but nothing could hide the earlier horrified realization, and the pharaoh's voice held more personal anger than any real righteousness in it as he was drawn back into the light in the doorway, Bakura's laugh chasing after him, nasty and satisfied.

The shrine was silent, but there was a giant presence of anticipation in the air, and the door was still open. Ryou stared at the spot where Atemu had stood, then up at the empty, and glowing doorway.

"I guess... that was it." Ryou shook his head, caught Malik's encouraging nod and with a deep breath turned towards his other.

"Does the door lead to afterlife?" Ryou knew it was stupid to hope, his other had hardly been a _pleasant_ person, for whatever reasons he'd done it. But he hoped that the gods would actually see the reasons they were done for, even if... even if the means doesn't justify the ends, and vengeance isn't really a nice thing to want. Bakura shrugged, not looking very concerned.

"It leads where it leads." Bakura threw them both a twisted grin. "Behave yourself Malik, I wouldn't want to have to share my space in hell with you and your uglier half."

"Oh, shut up, you miserable fuck." Malik snarled half-heartedly, ignoring Bakura's cackle.

Then the shrine was silent again, but the air seemed heavier than before... and had the light in the doorway gotten stronger? Ryou shifted his weight, then straightened his back and fully faced Bakura. The spirit glowered for a moment, and then glanced down at the Pendant.

"Take care of it... my own. It's-"

"Important, I know." Ryou grinned and waved a hand, secretly treasuring the glow his other's words had called up. Bakura grinned, and then laughed, turned around and left, letting the light take him where it would. It didn't matter now anyway. He'd gotten what he wanted.

"Ugh!" Ryou jerked off the cord, holding the Pendant away from him as blood suddenly started to fall off it. From the Eye, from the gold itself, from all over the blood trickled out and fell into the air, landing in large splotches onto the floor. It seemed to take forever, but finally there seemed to be no more blood. Looking up, they realized the door had closed, and the air just seemed dusty and abandoned now. Ryou looked warily down at the pendant, but as it seemed to have stopped its spontaneous bleeding, he put it on again.

"You think..?" Malik indicated the pendant with a nod.

"Yes... it must have been my other's blood. It doesn't feel... it doesn't feel special anymore. Before the pendant felt like the Ring had. Now it's just..."

"A piece of gold." Malik nodded and then they turned as one towards the exit, not running, but certainly not dallying either. The sun was still up, burning bright and hard above their heads. Ryou looked around the ruins, amazed. Like the shrine below, the ruins of the village didn't feel oppressive anymore. There was no dark, painful shadow lingering; only the endless desert for miles around, the air, and golden sunlight. The ruins and the tragedy had finally been turned over to history. This was only an abandoned ruin now; even with what they knew had happened here.

So long ago, now.

"Let's get back, Ryou. Maybe we can even convince my sister and Rishid nothing has happened, and we just forgot the time!"

Ryou laughed and raced Malik to his bike, feeling lighter. The pendant hanging on its cord from around the white-haired young man's neck glimmered in the sunlight, no more than another archaic trinket.

* * *

And _that_, people, is the end. Revenge was had, no extra Items lying around, the spirits left... So ends _my_ version of the beginning of the story told in Yu-Gi-Oh! 

Had fun? I hope so.


End file.
